


Hands of Titans

by SpaceguyLewis



Category: BioShock, Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Big Sisters are like murder dolphins, Families of Choice, Gen, Sentient Jaegers, Striker is confused
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-20
Updated: 2014-05-20
Packaged: 2018-01-25 20:10:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1660973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaceguyLewis/pseuds/SpaceguyLewis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Striker Eureka stumbles upon a city during a patrol in the northern Atlantic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hands of Titans

There were lights in the distance. Striker Eureka cocked his head, confused and curious. There weren’t any subsea buildings in the Atlantic of this particular Earth. The lithe Jaeger increased his easy walk to a jog, pedesteps shaking the ocean floor and stirring up schools of fish, clouds of silt and clumps of seaweed. As he came closer and closer to the lights he noticed that a strange sound was thrumming through the water. It was like whalesong, something he had heard many times on patrols back home in Australia, but it had a sort of modified quality to it like his own vocalizer. Tentatively, Striker let out a short collection of notes nearing subsonic. The sounds stopped for a moment before starting once again, this time even louder. Now Striker was running, the booster jets on his back glowing pale blue, and he could clearly see the source of the lights.

A city, almost the size of San Francisco, wreathed in kelp, barnacles and bubbles. Vaguely human-shaped creatures wandered the glass halls between buildings, tugged along by little girls in filthy dresses. Striker let out his song again, and this time a swirling mass of glowing red dots flowed from every corner of the city. The dots amassed on his shoulder pads and on the tops of his wings. He calmly scanned one of the dots and was surprised to find that it was an adolescent human female, but her DNA was severely unstable. Similar results came up on different girls, and Striker wondered what happened to them. He was snapped out of his musing when one of the girls placed a leather gloved hand on the honey colored glass of his conn-pod window, and Striker would have smiled if he could. Then the Australian Jaeger projected a sentence onto the window.

 _Hello, lady. What’s this place?_ The sentence was followed with a holographic pen, which the girl picked up hesitantly.

_It’s Rapture. We don’t want to stay. Will you take us away, mister?_

_I… okay. Just hang tight, everyone. This might be a bumpy ride._

Striker then ran several hundred thousand lines of code through the wormhole frequency and the massive oval showing the inside of the generator shaft edged in white lightning appeared in front of him. He straightened his spinal strut and strode calmly through the wormhole, from cold salt water to clean air. Glancing at the cargo he carried on his shoulders, he noticed that all of the portholes on the girl’s helmets had turned from bloody red to a light green.

_Is this our new home, mister?_

Striker laughed, shaking his head gently as he strode down the generator shaft into the main area of the cathedral-like Shatterdome. “Nah, you girls wouldn’t like it here. There’s no stuff for little humans to live on. I’m gonna take you to a special place called Iypreron.” Once he reached the control console for the wormhole, Striker keyed in the co-ordinates for one of his favorite Earth-sized moons. After a quick jump through the wormhole, warm air caressed his plating and he rattled his wings in happiness, startling the girls who were perched on them.

“Heheh, sorry ladies. Y’all might wanna climb down now,” he said cheerfully, striding across the prairie he had warped to towards some trees that reached his slate blue shins. Kneeling, he held his hands up gently to the girls on his wings and shoulders, carefully bringing them down to the soft grass.

“Well, y’all asked for a new home, here you are. Anything else you need?” The girl who had been the voice of her sisters turned to the others for a moment, seemingly discussing something in quiet dolphin-like chirps and clicks. She turned back to Striker and began to unscrew her helmet, placing it on the ground when she had finally gotten it off.

“Can you get our daddies?” she asked; voice hoarse. “They are big and strong and glow yellow. Just sing to them!” Striker put together a rough image of one of the hulking creatures he had seen in the city the girls called ‘Rapture’ and projected it for them.

“This ‘im?” he asked, and the girls a chirruped happily. Striker shrugged and rose to his feet once again. “Sure, why not. I’ll be right back with ‘em.” 


End file.
